


Dan Come Back To Me

by orphan_account



Series: Fanfic Gifts [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, April Showers 2015, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Serious Injuries, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan ran out the building. Phil followed.</p><p>Phil laughed.</p><p>Phil breathed.</p><p>Phil cried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dan Come Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xrosepetalsx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xrosepetalsx/gifts).



> This fic is for xrosepetalsx, who also goes by the name insanityplays here and on Tumblr. I started reading her phanfics just over a month ago and, to be honest, she is the main reason I joined AO3. I love reading her work and feedback on my fics, so I decided to write a fic for her, sorta to say thanks.
> 
> So xrosepetalsx, if you're reading this, thank you for unknowingly introducing me to a world of incredible writers, stories and ideas that I would be lost without.

There had been a squeal of brakes. There had been a rush of blood. All of a sudden, Dan was broken. His legs lay unmoving on the crimson-daubed tarmac. His eyes were shut.

Phil found he wasn't quite breathing properly. He gasped for air, holding his seat tight to steady himself.

The driver had stared wordlessly for a few seconds, eyes wide, mouth forming countless unspoken letters. Phil's eyes had dropped to the floor. He looked at Dan, his Dan, lying unconscious in a layer of his own blood. He looked at the driver, now leaping hastily out his red-smeared car, gabbling into his phone. He waited politely for the man to finish his call, then stepped forward and punched him as hard as he could in the mouth.

The man had fallen backwards, bemused and pitying. He rubbed at his heavily bleeding jaw for a second, before getting to his feet again.

He was angrier the second time. 

There had been gesticulations, Phil was sure. A finger jabbing the air, a battered mouth telling Phil that no, he couldn't just hit him because of the terrible accident that had just occurred.

In Phil's mind that was logical. Clear. Correct. Unfortunately, it was Dan. It was Dan and it was Dan and it was Dan, not moving, eyes shut, breath caught, dying every second, _dying_ \- 

With all the force he could muster Phil slammed his fist into the man's swelling mouth again. He felt the skin on his knuckles tear, felt the sudden pain of tooth against flesh. The man reeled backwards, breathless, eyes wide. "What the hell?!" he shouted, but Phil ignored him. An ambulance was pulling up, after all.

The paramedics were understanding. They took the man with them to A & E, before telling Phil he would probably recieve an official caution but it was okay, he was under considerable stress. He sat in the ambulance with Dan and the man he'd hit, sat in the ambulance and thought and thought and breathed and cried.

He felt the jerk of brakes and heard, again, the squeal. The collison. The thud of the body hitting the car, the thud of all that compacted muscle and flesh and bone flying through the air. The noise as it hit the earth. The noise as the skin tore and the flesh split and the bones cracked on impact.

Phil staggered out the stopped ambulance and retched emptily. Behind him the paramedics were carrying in Dan, body covered in a slightly stained white cloth. The man had disappeared to another entrance.

Phil stood and walked and followed them in. He waited through the rush and the worry and the hasty stitching of cuts. He waited through the scans and the fear and the blood. He waited through all the examinations. He waited, and if you were there he would have looked almost normal. The tall black-haired man, sitting alone, knuckles bruised and eyes dark. He didn't cry like the others, didn't wail and weep and collapse on the floor in a crumpled, broken mess.

He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to die. He wanted to _die_ and to _die_ and to _die_. But he stayed okay, stayed reasonable for Dan, Dan who was still unconscious, Dan with the splintered bones and broken flesh, Dan with the possible brain trauma and probable coma. 

He stayed okay so he could waste his tears beside him.

Dan had a bed now. He lay on his back, unmoving, eyes fixed shut and arms tangled with wires. Phil could only imagine what was pumping through his bloodstream right now, could only imagine how many drugs and addictives and medicines were keeping him alive for now. 

There was a little strand of hair stuck to the bloody mess that was Dan's forehead. Phil wanted to smooth it out.

He bought him Maltesers and flowers and tears. He sat by him. He held his hand in the endless nights and whispered his name, whispered that it was okay. 

Phil wanted Dan back and he wanted Dan back and he wanted Dan back. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and his voice was empty and broken. "I am so, so sorry."

***

"Jeez, Dan, how cold do you think it is?"  
Dan laughed and jostled Phil playfully. "Actually pretty cold," he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You're going to freeze, Phil!"  
"Am not," Phil replied, tongue poking out into his cheek. "Besides, everyone must know the coolness of my polka-dot shirt!"  
Dan giggled again, running a hand through his dark brown hair. "Your Phil in the club one? That's terrible!"  
"Oh yeah? Well, not as terrible as. . . as. . . as your scarf!" Phil retorted, and Dan collapsed in laughter. "That was. . . a present. . . from. . . Louise!" he choked, pulling it away from Phil. "Don't. . . insult. . . it!"  
"Alright, Mr Sunshine and Happiness Howell." Phil smiled as he opened the door, gesturing for Dan to go first. "What's got into you today, anyway?"  
"I don't know," Dan replied honestly, cheeks dimpling ever so slightly as he supressed a grin. "Come on anyway, we've got that meeting."  
"Who cares about the meeting?" Phil mock-grumbled as he walked out the flat. He heard a involuntary syllable of laughter from Dan and fought back a smile. "To Youtube HQ, then."  
"To Youtube!" Dan shouted and ran down the stairs.

***

That had been it, of course. Dan hurtling down the stairs, Phil a few steps behind. "Watch your step, Howell!" he'd shouted more than once, as Dan nearly slipped on the slightly damp concrete. Dan had looked up at him every time, eyes a soft brown and cheeks red with extertion and laughter. "Watch it yourself, Lester," he'd retorted, turning and jogging the last flight. Phil had stood still and laughed. . .

Dan had stepped out onto the pavement, glancing back to the still sniggering Phil as he ran across the road. Then there was a thump and a toss and Dan's body carving a path through the air, Phil's good-natured laughter still ringing in his ears.

Phil had laughed and Dan had fallen and there was blood slicking the tarmac.

Phil had laughed. Dan had fallen. Dan had broken and Dan had bled.

Phil felt tears slip into the corners of his eyes. "Dan," he whispered, and it was like every single promise they'd ever shared was gone. "Dan, Dan, Dan. Dan! Dan!"

"Dan?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this, it made me sad even writing! I thought I'd write a fic for some of my favourite people here on AO3, so here they are. Be sure to check out my other fics in this series (they're all standalone and require no prior knowledge of the others) and write a fic for April Showers yourself, using the tag April Showers 2015.


End file.
